Sonnets and Dreams
by frustratedstudent
Summary: The boys plus the resident misfit(in more ways than one) of the senior year...
1. Default Chapter

_A/N: This is my first DPS fanfic ever...so please have an open-mind. Yes, another one of those stories, but here's my personal twist to it._

**Sonnets and Dreams**

_Prologue: Live Like It Is_

The year was 1959 when it all began for me.

Sixteen fast going on seventeen, having lived through the best of times and the worst of times, and eager to get my life back on track, that was what I was when my father walked into the study that fateful afternoon.

My name is Vanessa O'Donnell, and I was just another anonymous girl from St.Mary's High School at least till that summer day.

It wasn't like I was happy where I was at that point in my life. Moving to Welton with my younger brother was worse though.

My brother John would be starting his first year in Welton, and to make the transition easier, my father decided to move me to the same school after hearing of its new co-ed program. I think Welton's policies changed due to a drop in enrollment, and the board of trustees overruled Mr. Nolan, the headmaster.

"Move to Welton? I'm already in trouble at school...and...and" I'd said when I'd learned the news. I was supposed to be starting my senior year already, and though Welton would look real good on a college application, it wasn't what I had in mind. Not at all.

Looking back on this as I stand by the lake, I laugh and smile as I remember...those days of our lives.


	2. The Four Pillars

_A/N: The disclaimer here: I do not own anything of 'Dead Poets' Society", none of the characters, settings or situations. I only have my original characters. _

_Chapter 1: The Four Pillars_

When we entered the chapel at Welton, I only counted nine other girls, and none of them looked like seniors. As if life couldn't get any worse.

"One hundred years ago, in 1859, forty-one boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of each semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?" the headmaster Mr. Nolan asked the whole assembly.

Immediately, all the boys stood up and chanted "Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence". None of the girls seemed to know what to do.

The headmaster went on to say something about Welton having graduated 51 students last year, and three fourths of those going on to the Ivy League. I'd heard earlier that our class would have 52 students, myself included.

No wonder they had to accept girls in Welton.

My parents quickly ushered me and John off to unpack at the dorms. We saw Mr. Nolan at the doorway, greeting every parent and student leaving the hall.

"Mr. O'Donnell, Mrs. O'Donnell" Mr. Nolan greeted, shaking my parents' hands. John and I looked stiffly at each other. We never were the best of friends, but not mortal enemies either.

"Vanessa, John, it is a pleasure to have you two here" Mr. Nolan said, turning to us.

"Yes sir" I managed to say. I heard someone chuckling behind us and I didn't care to look.

"I will see to it that you two will not have a problem settling in the dorms" Mr. Nolan said cordially.

"No, we will be fine, thank you, sir" John piped up. Mr. Nolan nodded as we left the doorway.

"Now you two behave yourselves. John, be a man, and Vanessa, look out for your brother" my mother admonished. John and I nodded, eager to get away from each other's company. After the usual goodbyes, John picked up his suitcase and scooted across the lawn to the dorm, leaving me alone there, squinting at the lawn full of parents with their boys and girls in tow. Mr. Nolan was still greeting parents at the doorway, and I was wondering how many of these boys were genuinely happy to be here.

After a while, I got my suitcase and lugged it up to the dorm where I'd learned earlier that I was assigned to. The whole place was chaotic, filled with boys going about, in and out of the rooms. I almost ran into a sandy-haired boy who was quietly going up the stairs.

"Ouch!" I said. The boy on the other hand looked startled like a jackrabbit. I suppressed a laugh and held out a hand by way of introduction.

"My name is Vanessa" I said, trying to ease his apparent shyness.

"Todd Anderson" he said softly.

"You new too?" I asked. He nodded as he helped me lug my suitcase up the stairs and into the hall. I saw that our rooms were beside each other and was slightly relieved. After throwing my suitcase on the lone bed in the room, I slipped out to take a look.

"I heard you got the new kid. Looks like a stiff!" I heard a red-headed boy say to who must've been Todd's roommate. Curious, I peeped in and saw that Todd's roommate was a tall and handsome dark-haired boy who seemed like an over-achiever, judging by all the pins on his jacket. Todd had silently placed his suitcase on a bed and had begun unpacking.

"Don't mind Cameron. He was born with his foot in his mouth, you know what I mean" the taller boy said, hitting Todd on the back with a couple of papers. "Oh yes, my name is Neil Perry. This is Todd Anderson" he added, holding out his hand to shake mine.

"I'm Vanessa O'Donnell. A pleasure to meet you, Neil" I said, shaking his hand warmly. The door opened again and three boys stood there. One had a smirk on his face, the other had spectacles and the last seemed rather affable and rather abashed.

"Rumor has it, you did summer school" the boy with the smirk said, pointing at Neil.

"Chemistry. My father wanted me to get ahead. How was your summer, Slick?" Neil replied.

"Keen" his friend replied as the three boys filed in. The guy with the glasses shut the door.

"Meet Vanessa O'Donnell, and Todd Anderson" Neil said by way of introduction. Todd nodded an acknowledgment as I turned to face the newcomers.

"I'm Charlie Dalton" the guy Neil had called 'Slick' said smugly.

"Steven Meeks" the one with the glasses said.

"Knox Overstreet" the last one said, extending a hand in a friendly way. Todd shook his hand and went back to unpacking rather uneasily.

"Todd's brother was Jeffrey Anderson" Neil said as he sat on the radiator.

"Valedictorian, National Merit Scholar..." Charlie began, rather bored as he plopped on Neil's bed.

"Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?" Neil asked.

"Travesty, horror, decadence, excrement" the rest said in unison. Todd snorted and I suppressed a giggle.

"I heard you call it Hell-ton" I joked.

"Quite right there, Vanessa. It's every bit as tough as they say, unless you're a genius like Meeks" Charlie interjected.

"He flatters me, so I tutor him in Latin" Meeks grinned.

"And English. And Trig" Charlie laughed.

"I could use a Latin tutor." I sighed as I sat on the edge of a bed. 'So travesty, horror, decadence, excrement, eh?"

"She's catching on good, Charlie. Quit corrupting her mind" Knox said in a joking way.

"I didn't do anything...' Charlie said mock innocently as he lit a cigarette. Suddenly, a knock came on the door.

Neil waved the smoke from the air and called. "It's open"

_Next part: trouble starts brewing_


	3. Dreams Rekindled

_Chapter 2: Rekindling Hopes_

The door opened and a middle-aged man with white hair walked in. Neil stood up from where he'd been sitting, a look of mild surprise crossing his face.

"Father, I thought you'd gone" he said. All the other boys stood up, and I felt it only proper to do so.

"Keep your seats, keep your seats" Neil's father said. I knew he eyed me disapprovingly and I tried to make myself invisible.

"Neil, I just spoken to Mr. Nolan, and I think you're taking too many extracurricular activities this semester. I've decided you should drop the school annual" he continued.

A look of shock spread across Neil's face. "But I'm the assistant editor this year!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Neil" Mr. Perry said dispassionately.

"But father, I can't. It wouldn't be fair" Neil insisted.

"Would you excuse us for a moment?" his father said. Neil promptly left the room, and the rest of us settled into an uncomfortable silence as we tried to listen to what was transpiring outside the door.

I could barely hear something about 'wasn't disputing', 'medical school', 'sorry', 'you know how much this means to your mother', till Mr. Perry's footsteps faded away. Charlie and Knox got up and stepped outside. Meeks and I merely watched Todd unpacking.

"Where did you study before coming here?" Meeks asked, breaking the silence. I smoothed down my skirt nervously and looked at him.

"St. Mary's." I replied. I looked out the window, and could barely see our reflections in the glass. All I could see was the green now empty since everyone was inside the dorms.

I did spend a good part of that day unpacking, and I was finally finished when I heard the footsteps going down to the dining room. I slipped out of my room and went downstairs to the front hall, looking around for the seniors and my brother. After a while, I'd located my brother among a group of scared-looking freshmen, but no sign of my classmates.

I'd forgotten though, at least till I got to the dining hall, that almost all the other girls had been escorted by the boys to dinner. So about two teachers who saw me raised their eyebrows, and I heard some titters from the other girls, but that didn't matter at the moment.

"Vanessa!" I heard a voice call. Turning around, I saw Neil, Todd, Knox, Charlie, Meeks, and Cameron with another boy I hadn't met earlier.

"Oh thank God" I muttered under my breath as I went to them. I took the last free seat, which was across from Neil and right between Todd and Knox.

"Oh yes, Vanessa, this is Gerard Pitts" Knox said, introducing me to the boy on his other side.

"Pleased to meet you" I whispered, as a teacher went by.

The only sounds for some minutes after saying Grace were the sounds of cutlery and chewing. Finally, Cameron broke this maddening monotony by asking, "What is our first class tomorrow?"

"Chemistry" Meeks replied. I swallowed hard on what passed for mystery meat, dreading having to balance an equation when my brain was still asleep.

"At least it's not Latin" Charlie joked.

Neil almost snorted at this. "I'd rather have that than Trig any day" he said.

"Thank God for soccer" I grinned. I'd heard that almost everyone at this table had soccer as an extra-curricular activity.

The next morning, I awoke to what must've been footsteps hurrying to the bathroom. Groggily, I grabbed my clothes and a towel and opened the door to find the hallway as busy as an anthill. As I made my way like some zombie to the only girls' bathroom on the floor, I bumped into someone. 

"Whoa...Vanessa…" I heard Neil say. I blinked my eyes open to see him and Charlie apparently just fresh out of the showers. I realized that my hair looked like a tangled bush and that I must've had circles under my eyes. Admittedly, I'd been a bit homesick and had cried myself to sleep.

'Hey, good morning" I managed to say, pushing my hair out of my eyes. "Had a good night's rest?"

"Surprisingly" Neil replied.

"Yeah…so we'll see you at breakfast, doll?" Charlie asked. I smirked at him and continued on my way to the bathroom.

I figured later that day that I must've been jinxed. By the time I'd been able to get down for breakfast, the bell had rung. There was just enough time to grab my books and hurry to Chemistry class.

"Starting off the day late are we, Miss O'Donnell?" the teacher said the second I burst into the room. Shamefaced, I took the last seat next to Todd, and was just in time to hear the teacher tell our class that we needed to pick an experiment to report on every five weeks…and that twenty questions on the first chapter were due the next day.

"He's calling the shots this year, I know it" Knox complained on our way to Trig.

"It can get better" I said, trying to cheer him up.

"In Hell-ton, nothing gets better" Charlie said. "You and Todd had better get used to it"

"Charlie, stop scaring them" Neil chided him.

By the end of the day, Todd and I had come to a conclusion that Charlie's warning had some truth to it, especially after Hager had told us that for every missed assignment in Trig, he'd deduct one point off our final grades.

"If you think he's joking, he really did that to Pitts last year" Meeks told me after the class.

"No kidding" Pitts said sardonically.

I made a resolution to ask anyone, Neil, Meeks, Knox or Cameron, for help later.

Last subject that day was English class, and the boys were wondering how the new teacher Mr. Keating would teach this class. I never voiced out my question too, but I was wondering whether English class ever did justice to the beauty of language. I never had been in a class, or met a teacher, that proved me wrong.

Surprisingly, when we entered the classroom, Mr. Keating didn't seem to be there yet. But when I turned around, I saw him peep out of a room just off the classroom. The whole class promptly quieted down as he walked out to the classroom door, whistling a tune. Neil, Todd and I exchanged surprised looks at this.

"Well, come on" he said. I simply picked up my books and followed the rest of the class out the door, getting the odd feeling that this was going to change things.

I'd lagged behind the class, and was only guided by the sound of Mr. Keating's voice saying, "Yes, that's the one".

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old time is still a flying…" I heard Pitts read.

"To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time" I breathed as I hurried into the hall. I'd recognized that poem from a book I'd once read. I found a spot just near Knox and Charlie and squeezed into the group.

"'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may'. The Latin term for that sentiment is Carpe Diem. Now who knows what that means?" Mr. Keating asked.

I saw the rest of the boys trying to recall Latin; apparently we all had a problem dragging McAllister's lessons out into our conscious.

"Carpe Diem. Seize the day" I heard Meeks say from somewhere near the front.

"Very good, Mr-"

"Meeks"

By this time, I tried to get out of the back of the group, but it was nearly impossible.

"Why does the writer use these lines?" I heard Mr. Keating ask.

"Because he's in a hurry" Charlie called.

"No, ding!" Mr. Keating exclaimed, much to everyone's laughter.

He continued more seriously. "Thank you for playing anyway. Because we are food for worms, lads", and turning to me, "lady. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die"

I noticed that some of us, especially Neil, looked rather disturbed at this point. Even I felt a cold pit settle in my stomach at the thought.

Mr. Keating told us to step forward and look at the pictures in the cases, and I took the opportunity to get closer to the picture cases to see what he meant. Yeah, they were faces staring back at us, rather lifeless and mechanical in my opinion. To my mild amusement, some of the photos resembled my classmates.

"They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable?" Mr. Keating said as we stared at the photos. I felt every word resound in me with importance and what I'd been looking for but could never really place.

" Because you see gentlemen, lady, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in" he continued.

Todd and I exchanged slightly perplexed looks. Back in our former schools, teachers weren't like this.

"Carpe…Carpe Diem! Seize the day….make your lives extraordinary" a voice, probably Mr. Keating's, whispered. The sound seemed to wander around the room...one mintue, next to my ear, the next so far away. Charlie and Neil smiled as if they'd hit some treasure. Todd and Knox looked creeped out, while Cameron was merely confused. I cannot remember if I smiled or shuddered, but I just knew that this was the beginning of the rest of my life.

After class, we hurried out to put away our books before gym class.

"That was weird" Pitts said, shivering slightly.

"But different" Neil pointed out.

"Spooky if you ask me" Knox said.

"Do you think he'll test us on that stuff?" Cameron asked. I flashed him an annoyed glare.

"Oh come on Cameron, don't you get anything?" Charlie scoffed.

"What? What?" Cameron said.

"Why did we even bother?!" I muttered to myself. Boys could be so dense sometimes.


	4. Dilemmas and a Spark

**Chapter 3: Dilemmas and a Spark**

I'd quickly grabbed my gym clothes and made a run for the girls' locker room before anyone could've said 'Jack Robinson'. If I wanted to properly freshen up, I'd have to do it early and fast, as I'd been warned that the teachers were strict even about what time one reported for extra-curricular activities.

When I arrived on the field, all of the boys were already there, some of them just chatting, and a few were kicking a ball around. I caught sight of Charlie and Knox throwing rocks at seemingly nothing.

"Hey, what side are you playing on?" Charlie called as I jogged towards them.

"Not sure, really" I said. And to be honest, I had no clue.

"O'Donnell, team B" I heard the coach call. Knox smiled gleefully, while Charlie smirked at me challengingly just before the coach blew his whistle.

"I think Neil is also on the other team" Knox whispered to me as we jogged off to the rest of our teammates. Todd was already there, looking quite lost, and an expression of what must've been relief spread on his face when he caught sight of us.

"Come on, it might be fun" I said, to encourage him. He just nodded diffidently at me. Poor kid.

I was determined to play my best, not to mention bring down Charlie's ego a bit. I was wondering how well would the rest play, but then again, it wasn't as if it was a championship game so I probably wouldn't get as much adrenaline out of it as I wanted to.

Needless to say, life threw me another curveball that afternoon. Knox faked a pass to Hopkins, then passed it to me, but before I could blast it into the net, someone intercepted the ball.

"Oh no you don't, Perry" I whispered, trying to get the ball back from Neil, but he proved to be too fast for me to take him on.

"Get the ball, Anderson!" someone yelled to Todd, who was also running ahead of me.

I suddenly felt this cramping pain in my side and I almost fell down, finding myself unable to run.

"What happened?" Todd asked, running up to me.

"I'm alright…just get moving!" I said, slightly exasperated at the looks the team were giving me. By the time I'd recovered, Neil and Charlie had both scored goals.

I needed more practice.

Night time had all of us, except Todd and Knox, slaving away at Trig in the common room. I was busy trying not to get lost in the tangle of numbers and variables, when Knox entered the room and closed the door.

"How was dinner?" Charlie asked. Knox gave an inaudible reply, forcing Charlie to repeat his question.

"Terrible, awful" Knox said.

"Why?" I asked, feeling rather sympathetic, sort of guessing the company he might've had to put up with.

Knox sat down at the table and a smile spread across his face. "Tonight, I met the most beautiful girl in my entire life" he said slowly.

"Are you crazy? What's wrong with that?" Neil asked. The rest of us exchanged confused looks at what Knox had said.

"She's practically engaged. To Chet Danburry" Knox said.

"Ouch" I whistled.

"That guy could eat a football" Charlie scoffed.

'That's too bad" Pitts said from another table.

"Too bad? It's worse than too bad, Pittsie…a girl this beautiful in love with such a jerk" Knox sighed.

"All the good ones go for jerks, you know that" Pitts pointed out. I begged to disagree, but I held my tongue.

"Forget her. Open your trig book and try to figure out problem number 5" Cameron piped up unsympathetically.

"I can't just forget her, Cameron. And I can't think about Trig" Knox protested.

"Who can? What's her name?" I asked. For all my brashness, I loved a good romance story, more so if it was real life.

Knox smiled as if he was dreaming. "Chris" he said simply.

A squeal came from the radio Meeks and Pitts were working on. "We got it!" Meeks said, trying to contain his excitement. Suddenly, Hager came in.

"Alright gentlemen, ladies, five minutes" he said as Pitts stashed the radio under the table on his lap.

"Did you see her naked?" Charlie asked Knox.

"Very funny, Dalton" Knox said sarcastically as I gathered up my books. I caught up with Cameron and Neil on the way upstairs.

"Did you figure out problem number 5?" Cameron asked Neil.

"I think I ought to sleep on it" Neil replied. "Did you, Van?"

I shook my head. "I'm lost" I murmured.

Neil looked at my face, as if he was studying it intensely. "I know, I know I have a bruise from soccer" I said, trying to laugh off what I could feel was a bruise on my face from having fallen during practice. I was wondering why was it I could feel my cheeks growing warm.

"No, it wasn't that" he said, smiling mischievously.

"Oh come on, what is it?" I laughed.

"Nothing" he said as he reached his door. "Good night"

"Good night" I said before entering my room. I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. I needed to find some way to stay sane. If the schoolwork wouldn't drive me crazy, the boys' antics might.

I was going to have to ask Neil in the morning what did he see.

"Gentlemen, lady, open your textbooks to page 21 of the introduction. Mr. Perry, will you read the opening paragraph of the preface entitled "Understanding Poetry"?" Mr. Keating instructed the next day.

English had, thankfully, happened to be one of the first subjects for the day. However, seeing the essay in my book dampened my rising spirits and I just stared at the page, not comprehending anything, as Neil began to read.

"If the poem's score for perfection is plotted along the horizontal of a graph, and its importance is plotted on the vertical, then calculating the total area of the poem yields the measure of its greatness"

I'd seen these words on the paper by the time Neil had read them out, and I was wondering, "What…was Pritchard mad when he wrote this?!"

I saw Mr. Keating draw the corresponding graph on the blackboard, and the rest of the class began copying it. I was seated near the front then, and had a good view of most everything in the room. Sighing, I reached for my ruler, just when Neil finished the selection.

"Excrement. That's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. We're not laying pipe, we're talking about poetry" Mr. Keating said, breaking the silence.

I let go of my ruler, and it hit the floor with a clatter as Mr. Keating said, "I mean, how can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? 'I like Byron, I give him a 42, but I can't dance to it"

"Now I want you to rip out that page" he finished. From my seat, I could see Cameron's horrified expression, and I had to contain my snickering.

"Go on, rip out the entire page. You heard me, rip it out. Rip it out!" Mr. Keating said. I was afraid that he was really serious about this.

A ripping sound from the back just proved my gut feeling. I looked to see Charlie holding up page 21!

"Thank you, Mr. Dalton. Tell you what, don't just rip out that page, rip out the entire introduction" Mr. Keating said.

I grabbed two pages and ripped them haphazardly, followed by the next, and the next. I wadded up a page and tossed it at Cameron, who was still not doing anything.

"We shouldn't be doing this!" he complained to Neil, who was seated behind him.

"Rip, rip, rip!" Neil urged him, turning him back around. He began hesitating, so I lobbed another Pritchard missile at him.

"You heard him! Now get on with it!" I said. Cameron got a ruler and began tearing them out, then a voice was heard that made all of us jump.

"What hell is going on in here?!" McAllister bellowed.

"I don't hear enough rip!" Mr. Keating said, coming out of the side room with a wastebasket.

"Mr. Keating" McAllister said, half-shocked.

"Mr. McAllister" Mr. Keating said calmly.

"I'm sorry. I thought you weren't here" McAllister said, obviously embarrassed. Some of the boys were suppressing their laughter.

"I am" Mr. Keating smiled. McAllister hurriedly retreated and Mr. Keating began passing around the wastebasket.

"Keep ripping. This is a battle, a war, and the casualties could be your hearts and souls" Mr. Keating said as he passed by the back. Charlie spat a wad of paper into the basket.

"Thank you, Mr. Dalton. Armies of academics, going forward, measuring poetry. No we will not have that here. No more of Mr. J Evans Pritchard. Now in my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savor words and language." he continued.

"No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. I see that look in Mr. Pitt's eye, like nineteenth century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school. Right? Maybe" he added.

My thoughts drifted to what little I had overheard about Neil and his father, and wondered what Mr. Perry would have thought of this.

"Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him, thinking "Yes, we should simply study our Mr. Pritchard and learn our rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions."" Mr Keating continued in a mock-lethargic tone. "I have a little secret for ya. Huddle up. Huddle up!" he said loudly.

I scrambled past some of the boys and managed to secure a spot near the center of the circle, sandwiched between Neil and another student.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life' Mr. Keating said in a serious tone.

"But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for" he said, putting emphasis on this.

"To quote from Whitman, "O me, o life, of the questions of these recurring, of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish. What good amid these, o me, o life? The answer: that you are here, and life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse."

"That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse" Mr. Keating repeated. Everyone was silent. A smile spread on Neil's face, Charlie's eyes widened, Knox and I held our breath.

"What will your verse be?" Mr. Keating concluded, looking at Todd.

When the lunch bell rang, the boys made a mad dash to the dining room. To my surprise, I saw Neil going in the opposite direction.

"Neil! Where are you going?" I called.

"To the library. I'm looking for the Captain's annual" he said.

"The Captain?" I asked, perplexed.

"Mr. Keating said we could call him 'oh captain, my captain!', if you recall. You want to come?" Neil said.

I looked over my shoulder, wondering if anyone else was there. "Sure" I said as we both ran to the library in the other end of the building.

This library was ancient. It had that pleasant smell of old paper hanging in the air. Dust motes danced in a ray of light from a large window near a tall shelf of books all with red binding and golden lettering on the spines.

"How old do you think he is?" I whispered.

"Try the ones from the late 30's or early 40's" Neil suggested as we began rummaging through the shelf. At last, we came up with one from 1944.

Sure enough, when we opened it, we found Mr. Keating's picture and a short write-up.

"You know, most write-ups hardly do justice to the person" Neil pointed out as I began reading silently.

"Thigh man…man most likely to do anything…Dead Poets' Society?" I said. Neil peered over my shoulder and began looking through some of the other annuals on the shelf.

"No mention of it" he said. "Let's go ask him later"

"Agreed" I said as Neil took the annual and hid it in his jacket as we hurried out of the library.


	5. Running in the Dark

_Chapter 4: Running in the Dark_

Over lunch, Neil showed the annual to the boys and we found ourselves looking for Mr. Keating right after a hurried lunch. The noontime sun was bright as we jogged out towards the grounds and the stream. Sure enough, we saw Mr. Keating walking near the water, whistling as he always did.

"Mr. Keating? Mr. Keating?" Neil called, but Mr. Keating didn't seem to hear us.

"Sir?" I called.

"Oh Captain My Captain!" Neil said, and only then did Mr. Keating turn around to acknowledge us.

"Gentlemen. Miss O'Donnell" Mr. Keating greeted.

"We were just looking in your old annual" Neil explained, holding out the book open to the page.

Mr. Keating took it and contemplated it for a moment as he crouched to get a better look at it in the light. "Oh my God. No that's not me. Stanley "The tool" Wilson" he said.

"What was the Dead Poets Society?" Neil asked.

"I doubt the present administration would look to favorably on that" Mr. Keating replied.

"Why, what was it?"

Mr. Keating smiled at us. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked.

"Sure" We all sat down to hear him better.

"The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. That's a phrase from Thoreau that we'd invoke at the beginning of each meeting. You see we'd gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley; the biggies. Even some of our own verse. And in the enchantment of the moment we'd let poetry work its magic" Mr. Keating said with a hint of nostalgia and a far off look in his eyes.

"You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?" Knox asked skeptically, breaking the silence that had held us.

"No Mr. Overstreet, it wasn't just "guys", we weren't a Greek organization, we were romantics. We didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey. Spirits soared, women swooned, and gods were created, not a bad way to spend an evening eh?" Mr. Keating continued.

"Thank you Mr. Perry for this trip down amnesia lane. Burn that, especially my picture" he added, handing the annual back to Neil before walking off down to the stream, whistling.

"Dead Poets Society" I whispered, looking around at the group as I stood up. Neil remained crouched as if thinking, then stood up just as the bell rang.

"I say we go tonight" he said.

"Tonight?" Charlie asked, seeming thrilled with the idea.

"Wait a minute" Cameron piped up.

"Where is this cave he's talking about?" Pitts asked.

"It's beyond the stream. I know where it is" Neil replied.

"That's miles!"

"Sounds boring to me" Cameron said.

"Don't go" Charlie said.

"You know how many demerits we're talking about, Dalton?" Cameron argued.

"Then don't go, please!" Charlie retorted.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we have to be careful, we can't get caught"

"No shit Sherlock" Charlie said. The rest of us were giving Cameron annoyed looks as we ran back to the building since Hager was yelling at us already.

"All right, who's in?" Neil asked.

"Come on Neil, Hager's right---" Cameron said.

"No, forget Hager" Neil said.

"I'm in" Charlie said.

"Me too" Cameron sighed.

"I don't know, Neil" Pitts said, walking ahead.

"What? Pitts…" Neil said.

"His grades are hurting, Neil!" Meeks called.

"You can help him Meeks" Neil suggested.

"What is this, a midnight study group?" Pitts asked.

"Forget it Pitts, you're coming. Are your grades hurting too, Meeks?" Neil asked.

"I'll try anything once" Meeks answered.

"Except sex" Charlie laughed.

"You want to come, Vanessa?" Neil asked me.

I nodded just as we ran in through the door and Charlie was persuading Knox to join in tonight.

During study hall, we were looking over a map, finding the easiest route to the cave, while Neil went to ask Todd to come along later. After a while, Neil returned to our table.

"Todd doesn't want to read at the meeting later" Neil said.

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"He doesn't. Would it be alright if he'd just keep the minutes?"

We all nodded in assent, just as McAllister yelled at us to shut up. I glanced at the clock and groaned, for midnight was a good ten hours away.

I tried to get in an hour of sleep before time came to meet in the corridor. Finally, I woke up and opened my door and found everything in pitch darkness. All I had with me was a flashlight, and I was wearing pajamas and had my shoes on. Carefully, I eased on my coat and looked around.

"Van, is that you?" I heard Pitts whisper from somewhere.

"Yep" I said just as the rest emerged from their rooms. Todd had a notebook with him, and Neil was holding a huge old book.

"What is that?" Charlie asked.

"A book of poems. I think Keating left it in my room" Neil whispered. We then hurried noiselessly down the stairs and almost ran into the guard dog.

"Oh shit!" I whispered before clapping my hand over my mouth, Pitts dropped some biscuits and we got out of the door without much ado.

The grass seemed to be springy and the moon was out as we ran across the grounds, past the stream and into the woods. The trees looked terrifying yet beautiful in the moonlit night as we began searching for the cave.

I joined Todd as he peered past some rocks, till we heard Meeks yell.

"Arr, I'm a dead poet!" Charlie laughed. Obviously, they'd just found the cave.

In a few minutes, we were sitting down in the cold, rather damp but snug cave as the boys tried to make a fire. I was wedged towards the back of the cave beside Todd.

Instead of blazing brightly, the fire filled the cave with smoke. I coughed just as Charlie began complaining.

"No, no, the smoke goes right out this opening" Meeks said defensively just before Pitts bumped his head on the rock as he tried to stand up.

Neil opened the book and stood up. "I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society" he began and all of us cheered.

"Welton chapter. The meetings will be conducted by myself and the other new initiates now present. Todd Anderson, because he prefers not to read, will keep minutes of the meetings. I'll now read the traditional opening message by society member Henry David Thoreau. "I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life." Neil continued.

"I'll second that" Charlie grinned.

"'To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived'" Neil finished. He examined the book. "And Keating's marked a bunch of other pages…"

"All right intermission. Dig deep right here, lay it down" Charlie interrupted.

"On the mud? We're going to put our food down on the mud?" Cameron complained before I bopped him on the head; I just had to.

"Meeks, put your coat down. Picnic blanket" Charlie ordered.

"Yes sir" Meeks said. Poor guy. Anyway, out on the coat fell apples, cookies, half a roll and a box of raisins.

"Raisins?" Neil asked.

"Gross" I muttered, making a face.

"Wait a minute, who gave us half a roll?" Charlie asked.

"I'm eating the other half" Pitts said with his mouth full.

After a while, Neil got the flashlight and began telling a story. "It was a dark and rainy night…" he began as we all leaned in to listen.

"…she stared in horror at the face of the demented madman at the window" Neil continued, pausing for effect as he shined the flashlight on us.

"The last thing this old lady ever heard was the sound of…breaking glass" he finished.

"Ohh…no" the boys whispered.

"I've got one that's even better than that" Cameron said, perking up. "There's this young married couple…"

"THAT one?" I said sarcastically as the boys began finishing the story for him. After we finished ribbing him, Pitts began reading what turned out to be the 'Ballad of William Bloat'. He only got as far as the first part, but we had a good laugh.

"It gets worse!" he exclaimed.

"You want to hear a real poem?" Charlie said, bragging a bit. He refused the book, stood up and went to the middle of the cave.

"An original piece by Charlie Dalton" he said. Some of us snorted.

"You know this is history, right? This is history" Neil said.

Producing a folded page from his pocket, Charlie unfolded it to reveal a centerfold. I rolled my eyes and glared at him, and the boys began to gape and chuckle a bit.

"Teach me to love…" Charlie began. I had to admit that it was quite good.

"Wow, you wrote that?" Neil asked after.

"Abraham Cowley. Okay, who's next?" Charlie said, showing where he'd copied the poem.

"Alfred Lord Tennyson" Neil said. "Come my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset. And though we are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;--One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield'".

"I wish I could write like that" I said wistfully as he handed the book to me. I flipped to a page and found some of Emily Dickinson's poems.

"'The Heart has many Doors --I can but knock --For any sweet "Come in" Impelled to hark --Not saddened by repulse, Repast to me That somewhere, there exists,

Supremacy –'"

Smiling, I handed the book to Meeks, who looked through it for a minute than began chanting from "The Congo"

"'Then I had religion, then I had a vision. I could not turn from their revel in derision. Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black. Cutting through the forest with a golden track'" he chanted.

'Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black. Cutting through the forest with a golden track" he repeated. Knox picked up a metal container and began banging on it like a drum. Soon we were all going around the cave, chanting as we used sticks, combs and other stuff to make noise.

"Then I saw the Congo (eek!) creeping through the black…" we continued on as we left the cave, and ran back to the dorm as the clock struck two. Never mind the eye bags we'd get the next day.


	6. Pushing the Limit

_A/N: Hello! Finally, it's summer where I am, so let's get this show on the road again…still don't own anything besides Van, no characters, no script. _

**Pushing the Limits**

I didn't remember walking back in the dorm, or what happened after, but the next thing I knew was that the sun was up, and the corridor was filled with boys rushing to get ready for the day. When I opened my door, I managed to catch sight of Charlie hurrying to the bathroom amid the confusion.

"Van! Come on, if we don't hurry, Hager will let us have it!" Cameron yelled at me from somewhere as I ran to the ladies' room. After quickly washing and dressing, I managed to get downstairs just in time for the second bell. Meeks, Cameron, Neil, and Todd were already waiting when I got there.

"Morning!" Neil greeted cheerily when he saw me. Unlike the other boys, he looked rather chipper and ready to take on the day. Meeks had eye bags, Cameron looked jumpy, and Todd was yawning.

"Where do you get your energy, Perry?" I yawned. Meeks snorted and Todd laughed.

"Believe me, he's hard to wake up, right Todd?" Meeks kidded as Todd nodded gleefully. Just then, Knox and Charlie clattered down the stairs. Knox was already fresh, but Charlie's hair was still out of sorts.

"You there ! Move it, Dalton, or it'll be straight to the Disciplinary Office for you!" Hager bellowed from upstairs. We went to the dining hall quickly before the tell-tale sound of the teacher's boots hit the stairs.

"When's English?" I asked Neil.

"Last period..."

"Again" Knox sighed. This was going to be a long day.

" A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. And don't use very sad, use-" Mr. Keating said lively as he circled the room. We'd been studying diction (a normally boring subject for me), and the discussion was turning energetic, not as in the rowdy energetic, but more of a charged up sort.

"Come on, Mr. Overstreet, you twerp," Mr. Keating said, pointing to Knox, who was scribbling.

"Morose? " Knox asked, seemingly unsure.

"Exactly! Morose. Now, language was developed for one endeavor, and that is? Mr. Anderson? Come on! Are you a man or an amoeba?" Mr. Keating continued, looking at Todd. Todd on the other hand looked back at him with a blank expression.

"Mr. Perry?" Mr. Keating asked.

"Uh, to communicate" Neil replied quickly.

"No! To woo women" Mr. Keating said, glancing from him to me, much to everyone's laughter. I rolled my eyes, but I was chuckling too.

"Today we're going to be talking about William Shakespeare." Mr. Keating began. Everyone groaned and some of the boys buried their heads in their books.

"I know. A lot of you looked forward to this about as much as you look forward to root canal work. We're gonna talk about Shakespeare as someone who writes something very interesting. Now, many of you have seen Shakespeare done very much like this:" he said matter-of-factly as he stopped walking.

"O Titus, bring your friend hither." But if any of you have seen Mr. Marlon Brando, you know, Shakespeare can be different. "Friend, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears." You can also imagine, maybe, John Wayne as Macbeth going, "Well, is this a dagger I see before me?" he added as he put on different accents. Some people started cracking up.

It wasn't long till we were huddled around him as he continued reading out passages from different selections. I liked most of them, except for the one about dogs.

"That's just…bizarre" I whispered to Meeks, who was nearest me.

"That's the way some people wrote. Remember William Bloat?" Charlie joked from nearby.

Five minutes till the bell rang, we were back in our seats, then all of a sudden, Mr. Keating jumped up on his desk.

"Why do I stand up here? Anybody? " he asked.

"To feel taller." Charlie called

"No!" Mr. Keating replied, ringing the bell on his desk.

"Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton. I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way." he corrected. He looked around and seemed to smile.

"You see, the world looks very different from up here. You don't believe me? Come see for yourself. Come on. Come on! "he invited us. Charlie and Neil stood up first, then me, looking very uncertain. The rest of the class followed, and we formed a queue.

I managed to climb up onto the desk, and I did look around. Sure, it was the same classroom, but it did seem nicer up there. When I did jump down, I nearly forgot to gather my skirt around me so it wouldn't fly up. Charlie was sniggering at this, and I shot him a death glare.

"If looks could kill" Hopkins joked from nearby. I sat on my desk as I watched the rest of my classmates take their turns to stand on the desk.

"You must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation." Don't be resigned to that. Break out!" Mr. Keating said, in a more serious and impassioned tone than he'd used earlier in the class. I couldn't help but glance at Neil, who was also sitting on his desk. My thoughts began wandering to my situation at home. Maybe I _was_ quietly desperate after all.

Suddenly, just as Priske stood on the desk, the bell rang. Mr. Keating gathered up his things and began going to the door.

"Now, in addition to your essays, I would like you to compose a poem of your own, an original work" he said. Everyone began groaning, as Mr. Keating began to flicker the lights ominously.

"That's right! You have to deliver it aloud in front of the class on Monday. Bonne chance, gentlemen, lady." he added as he stepped out the door. I saw some jaws drop at this, for it was already Wednesday, and we had less than a week to write the poem amid our piles of work!

Todd was about to jump off the desk when Mr. Keating peeped back in. "Mr. Anderson?" our teacher called. Todd nearly fell off the desk with a surprised expression on his face.

"Don't think that I don't know that this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole". Mr. Keating finished as he turned off the lights.

After English, it was time for Sports, but since there was Rowing and Fencing practice that day, there was no soccer practice. Meeks and Pitts disappeared off somewhere with their radio, Charlie and Cameron went to dress for Rowing, Knox went to the library to do some homework, while Todd and I went to the dorms. After I'd changed out of my uniform into slacks and a blue shirt, I decided to wander the grounds for a while.

The afternoon was pleasantly cool for an autumn day, and the sun was out. A slight breeze was in the air, bringing the smell of water and leaves to everyone's noses.

"Take a power train in two! Three! Keep your eyes in the boat!" Mr. Nolan ordered from somewhere in the area of the lake. Charlie and Cameron were so engrossed in rowing that they probably wouldn't have noticed if something fell in the lake, much less if there were people waving at them. I looked up to see two people on the roof, installing an antenna on the highest part.

"Oh my God!" I whispered. Meeks and Pitts were really bent on trying out the radio.

"Miss O'Donnell" I heard Hager say in a reprimanding way behind me.

"Good afternoon, sir" I greeted, trying not to appear scared.

"You aren't allowed to loiter, even if there is no soccer practice. Do your homework' he ordered. I looked up at Meeks and Pitts dancing goofily on the roof and shrugged. Shaking my head in wonder, I decided to get a head start on the poem.

I work better when talking to someone, so I decided to hang out with Todd for a while. The door to the room was unlocked, and when I opened it, sure enough, Todd was busy scrawling in his notebook. There were several wadded up papers on the bed he was sitting on.

"Getting somewhere?" I asked. He turned his writing pad over as if surprised, and he shook his head.

"I'm stuck for ideas" I muttered, sitting on the other end of the bed. I opened my notebook, and began scratching out a few lines. Todd must've been convinced that I wasn't going to talk much, so he got back to his work.

Suddenly, the door opened and Neil walked in, laughing and looking more bubbly than usual. He was holding a paper that he put down on the bed.

"I found it" Neil announced gleefully.

"You found what?" Todd asked curiously.

"What I wanna do right now. What's really, really inside me". Neil continued on, obviously excited.

'"A Midsummer Night's Dream"?" I asked, glancing at the flier. I'd seen it before, and was considering trying out.

"This is it" Neil said.

"What is this?" Todd asked, obviously befuddled.

"It's a play, dummy" Neil said.

"I know that. I-- Wh-Wh-What does it have to do with you?" Todd asked.

"Right. They're putting it on at Henley Hall. Open tryouts. Open tryouts!" Neil exclaimed.

"What!" I gasped.

"Yes, so?" Todd asked. Neil picked up a blanket and wore it like a cloak as he stood up.

"So, I'm gonna act. Yes, yes! I'm gonna be an actor! Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to try this. I even tried to go to summer stock auditions last year, but, of course, my father wouldn't let me. For the first time in my whole life I know what I wanna do…" Neil began excitedly as he picked up some papers.

.."and for the first time I'm gonna do it whether my father wants me to or not! Carpe diem!" he yelled, throwing the papers in the air.

"Neil, Neil, hold on a minute. How are you gonna be in a play if your father won't let you?" Todd asked as he gathered up some of the papers.

"First I gotta get the part, then I can worry about that" Neil replied flippantly. I stared at him as if he was going mad.

"Yeah, but won't he kill you if he finds out you went to an audition and didn't even tell him?" Todd asked.

"No, no, no, no. As far as I'm concerned, he won't have to know about any of this" Neil insisted.

"Well, that's impossible" Todd pointed out.

"Bullshit! Nothing's impossible' Neil countered.

"Well, why don't you just call him and ask him? And m-maybe he'll say yes" Todd suggested, trying to remain calm.

"That's a laugh!" Neil exclaimed.

"Come on, it wouldn't hurt to try. And parents _always _find out about these things, Neil." I said.

"If I don't ask him, at least I won't be disobeying him' Neil insisted.

"It could turn out for the best if you just tried…" I said.

'Yeah, but if he said—" Todd began.

"Jesus, Todd! Van! Whose side are you two on?" Neil shouted, obviously fed up. Todd's eyes widened and I swallowed hard. Neil put away the blanket and moved to the window.

'I mean, I haven't even gotten the part yet. Can't I even enjoy the idea for a little while?" Neil began more calmly, sounding slightly defeated. Todd remained silent. I threw up my hands and got back to writing in the awkward silence.

"You're coming to the meeting this afternoon?" Neil finally asked.

"I don't know. Maybe." Todd replied.

"Nothing Mr. Keating has to say means shit to you, does it, Todd?" Neil asked.

"W-What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're in the club! Being in the club means being stirred up by things. You look about as stirred up as a cesspool" Neil pointed out. By now he was standing over Todd, who was looking a bit scared.

"So- You want me out?" Todd asked.

"No! I want you in, but being in means you gotta do something. Not just say you're in"

Well, listen, Neil. I-I appreciate this concern, but I-I'm not like you. All right? You, you, you say things and people listen. I'm, I'm not like that…" Todd stammered. Poor guy had a confidence problem in my opinion.

"Don't you think you could be?" Neil argued. I was getting ready to pull him away in case this argument would end up out of hand.

"No! I--I, I don't know, but that's not the point. The, the, the point is that there's nothing you can do about it, so you can just butt out. I can take care of myself just fine. All right?" Todd replied.

"No"

"What do you mean, "no"? " Todd asked perplexedly

"No" Neil reiterated, a smile starting to form on his face. Suddenly, he grabbed Todd's writing pad and ran across the room. Todd and I jumped up and began running after him.

"Give me---Neil, Neil give that back" Todd called as he tried to grab the book. Neil saw my poetry and grabbed it up too!

"Hey! That's unfinished…come on, drop it!" I yelled as I tried to grab it from his hand. We were racing around in circles, jumping on the furniture as Todd and I tried to grab our works back (not an easy task, as Neil was pretty tall).

"We are dreaming of a--" Poetry! I'm being chased by Walt Whitman! Okay, okay…" Neil exclaimed as he read a bit of Todd's poetry before he dropped it.

Just then, Cameron opened the door, holding up his Chem book. "What are you guys doing? I'm sure-- You see this chemistry-"he began before Neil got his book. Cameron jumped up on Todd's bed and joined the chase.

"Hey, give me-- Neil, give me-- Don't be immature. Come on. I need my-" Cameron insisted. Neil tossed the book to me and I jumped to dodge Cameron before passing the book to Todd.

"Give it to me! Give it to me!" Charlie yelled as he entered the room. Pretty soon, we were all running around tossing the book all over the place while the guys played the bongos and a recorder. Finally, we all collapsed in a heap, laughing from the best fun we'd had in weeks.


	7. If Only Envy

_A/N: Sadly still do not own anyone except my original characters. _

**If Only Envy Were Less Powerful**

"Van! I'm going out the door already!" Neil called from downstairs the next day while I was still up in my room after class.

"I'll be down in a minute Neil! Hold your horses, darn it…" I yelled back as I combed out my still wet hair. The two of us were planning to go to the tryout at Henley Hall.

As I got out of my room, I saw Todd still bent over his English assignment. "You sure you don't want to come, Todd?" I asked.

He looked up briefly from his work and shrugged. "Need to finish this" he said almost unintelligibly.

"Cover for us, ok?" I laughed as I threw on a jacket and hurried down the stairs and outside to the bike racks, where Neil was waiting with a bored look on his face.

"This won't be long, I hope." he said excitedly. Sure, he was all smiles, but I could see that his hands were sweaty.

"Chill. It's just a tryout." I said as I watched him get on his bike.

"Yeah, one I've wanted to go to for a long time now." Neil retorted nervously as we began pedaling off to Henley Hall.

When we arrived, the auditorium was full of people milling about with copies of "A Midsummer Night's Dream". A tall lady, one who I guessed to be a teacher or directress, was busy talking to some kids. Neil left me to decide what role I'd try for, so I simply went about, trying to guess who was trying out for what role. About two girls were trying for Titania, three for Helena, and three for Hermia.

"I'm trying out for Puck" Neil grinned after a while when we met up again.

"I guess I'll try for Hermia" I said, swallowing hard. Despite my bragging and swagger earlier, I was getting nervous, and I thought I'd pass out when I told the teacher what I was trying out for.

As I sat with a copy of some sample lines in my hand, I began wondering what would happen if I did get in, not that I expected to. I knew Neil stood a good chance of getting the part (though imagining him as Puck was difficult).

"All those trying out for the part of Hermia, please come forward" the teacher called. I could feel my legs wobble as I stood up. Neil smiled at me encouragingly as I strode to the stage.

I was assigned to read out a part of one of Hermia's conversations with Lysander. A girl named Ginny Danburry (I found out later she was Chet's sister), got to read first. When she was done, I had the feeling that I didn't stand a chance.

I never got past the line "But gentle friend, for love and courtesy…" The rest of that short bit of verse just got stuck in my throat.

When I was sure that I wasn't going to get the part, I simply sat down to watch Neil's try out. I tried to swallow my tears as I watched him, because like everyone else in the room, I was pretty sure that he was going to get the part. I knew because one of the guys who auditioned just ate his words, and the other didn't sound half as convincing.

"We'll know the results the day after tomorrow, Van" Neil said to me as we pedaled back.

"You don't need to know. I know you got in. No one else could've, Neil. I don't know why your father stopped you" I said.

"You weren't bad either." Neil said. I knew he was just trying to make me feel better.

"Ginny Danburry is going to get it for sure" I said.

"Nothing's impossible!" Neil commented. I sometimes wanted to wipe that optimism off his face.

When we got back to the dorm, Neil went straight up to finish homework, and I decided to work on my poetry. I saw Knox sitting out, looking forlorn on the steps.

"Hey Knoxious…what's going on?" I asked.

He looked up at me and smiled briefly. "I went to Ridgeway for some inspiration today" he sighed.

"That's good. You saw Chris?" I asked.

"Sure did. And she just…jumped into that jerk's arms. It 's not like she can ever think of me" he said.

"Ah, just give it some time. You'll see" I said, trying to cheer him up.

Suddenly, the other boys came down the steps. "Hey you two! Meeting!" Charlie called.

"What!" I asked.

"You forgot too?" Neil kidded as Knox and I jogged after him. I frowned when I saw yet another bunch of centerfolds in Charlie's hands.

"Charlie…do you really have to carry those?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah, what if Nolan finds them, huh?" Cameron piped up.

"Cameron, shut up. And don't worry doll, I won't let them fall" Charlie said. Disgusted, I turned back to the dorm.

"Hey, come on! Van!" Charlie called after me.

"I just want to be alone, ok?" I retorted. I felt someone tug on my coat, and turned around to see Neil.

"Van, he's just being…" he said.

"It's not about that, Neil" I said as I jammed my hands in my pockets. I desperately wanted to swallow my envy before I said something to him that I'd regret.

"Besides, what can't poetry fix?" Pitts piped up from somewhere. I snorted and managed to smile.

"I'm just going for the poetry…not for you guys" I said finally, following them.

The next day, instead of staying in the classroom for English, we found ourselves walking with Mr. Keating out to the playing field. We were all to line up in single file, read a line of poetry, then see how far we could kick a soccer ball.

What I got was a line of Whitman's 'Song of Myself': "Endless unfolding of words of ages! And mine a word of the modern, the word of En-Masse!"

Somehow, I felt a sense of relief when I watched my ball sail nearly as far as Charlie's did.

The next afternoon, while I put the finishing touches to my poetry, I heard someone yelling excitedly in the hall and banging doors.

"I'm going to play Puck!" I heard Neil shout. I opened my door to catch sight of him racing down the hallway, ecstatic.

"Good for you!" Knox had simply commented. Meeks and Pitts, who were still working on something, looked confused.

"Congratulations, good for you Neil" Charlie had said when Neil had told him. Shaking my head, I went out to greet Neil.

"Van! I got it!" he'd said, almost breathless with happiness. I was still aching, but why ruin his moment, I thought.

"You deserved it Neil!" I laughed, hugging him quickly before following him into his room. Todd was also there, working.

Neil sat down at his typewriter and put a paper in. "Neil, how are you going to do this?" Todd said in disbelief as he plopped on a bed and I got a chair.

"They need a letter of permission from my father and Mr. Nolan" Neil replied.

"You're not going to write it" Todd said.

"Oh yes I am" Neil laughed. My jaw dropped and I gave Todd a disbelieving stare.

"Oh Neil, Neil, you're crazy!" Todd pointed out.

"Totally nutty I say" I added.

"Yeah!" Neil chuckled as he began typing. Todd and I simply watched, horrified, wondering how the hell was he going to get away with this. I couldn't say we didn't warn him.


	8. The SweatyToothed Madman

_A/N: I'm finally back! After this super long hiatus, let's get this show on the road. Anyway, all usual disclaimers from previous chapters are still applied._

**The Sweaty-Toothed Madman**

Two nights later, I found Neil sitting out in the hallway just before 'lights out' with what appeared to be a notebook in his hand. "Working on English?" I asked as I came up behind him.

"No. I need to memorize lines for the scene we're rehearsing tomorrow," he replied, showing me the binder that he'd put the "Midsummer Night's Dream" script in. "Are you planning on going to the meeting?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're probably the only one here, Mr. Perry, who isn't revising and worrying about reading poetry in front of the class. It's one thing to read your own work to your friends, but to stand up there…only _very few_ people in the world can do that without wishing they were in front of a firing squad instead,"

Neil looked through his binder and met my gaze. Oddly, I wanted to look away. "Do you have a moment, Vanessa? Because if you do, could you…er…critique my work?" he asked.

"How funny. I never thought you were the sort of person who gets nervous about reading poetry," I said wryly.

Neil handed to me a sheet of paper that he had kept folded in his coat. Before I could unfold it though, a door slammed open nearby. I nearly jumped and dropped the paper.

"Mr. Perry! Miss O'Donnell!" Hager bellowed. "Return to your rooms immediately!"

I sighed as I handed the paper back to Neil. "Just tell me about it in the morning, alright?" I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Sure. Good night, Vanessa," he said as I entered the room. Strangely, though I could no longer see him, the warm, cheery way he smiled at me stayed in my mind all the way into my dreams.

The next morning, all of us Dead Poets met at the bottom of the stairs. Knox looked like he lacked a wink of sleep. Meeks and Pitts were talking about the radio. Cameron was looking through his Trig book (as if he didn't have a life beyond it!). Charlie was cocky again, and Neil was excited. Todd looked though as if he wanted to crawl away and die. He had a forlorn look on his face (a bit like those faces of desperate people in paintings), and he was sweating.

"It's not like five minutes will kill you, Todd," Charlie said to him. We all knew what was getting him worked up. Today was the day our assignments were due.

"Actually, Chemistry will get rid of all of us first," Pitts said diffidently. "Reports are also in today,"

I looked through my books and my eyes widened. "Oh no…I forgot to write it!" I gasped.

"And so Miss O'Donnell goes down," Cameron said smugly.

I gave him an icy look. "Do shut up," I snapped. "I'll just copy, or rather…remember what I can of the experiment…"

Later that morning, during Latin, Meeks passed me a folded paper.

"What?" I mouthed. "Who's it from?"

Meeks pointed to Charlie. I discreetly took a look, and found it was a page from Charlie's notebook. Minus all the obscene drawings, it was exactly what I needed.

"To Chris," Knox read nervously later that day. It was English, and each person in our class reacted differently to the prospect of reading. Some, like Priske, were excited about it. Others, like Hopkins, were indifferent. A good many, just like Todd, Knox, Pitts, and myself, were squirming in our seats.

"I see a sweetness in her smile.

Bright light shines from her eyes.

But life is complete; contentment is

mine,

Just knowing that..."

Knox stammered as some of the boys began laughing. "…just knowing that she's alive," he managed to finish shakily. He crumpled up his poem and trudged back to his desk.

"Sorry Captain, it's stupid," he murmured. As he sat down, Charlie patted him on the back sympathetically.

"No, no. It's not stupid. It's a good effort. It touched on one of the major themes, love. A major theme not only in poetry, but life. Mr. Hopkins, you were laughing. You're up," Mr. Keating said. Knox looked relieved to find that Mr. Keating wasn't patronizing, nor belittling him. We watched as Hopkins stood up to read.

"The cat sat on the mat," he said slowly. We all burst out laughing at this seemingly measly effort.

"Congratulations, Mr. Hopkins. Yours is the first poem to ever have a negative score on the Pritchard scale," Mr. Keating said once Hopkins sat down. More laughter rippled through the room.

"We're not laughing at you, we're laughing near you," Mr. Keating added. After a few more comments, he began looking through the room for a student to call on. I told myself not to show any sign of fear, nor to make myself conspicuous.

As luck would have it, Todd was next. He protested, saying, "I didn't write a poem,"

Now, at this point, most English teachers would've exploded. Mr. Keating though simply nodded and said, "Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worst fear? Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal,"

We all watched cautiously as he went to the board. He proceeded to write "I sound my barbaric YAWP over the rooftops of the world". W.W.

"More Whitman, "Neil commented from nearby.

"Now for those of you who don't know, a yawp is a loud cry or yell. Now, Todd, I would like you to give a demonstration of a barbaric 'yawp'. Come on, you can't yawp sitting down," Mr. Keating said, getting Todd to stand up and come up front. Poor Todd dragged his feet all the while.

"You gotta get in 'yawping' stance," Mr. Keating said, urging Todd to stand up straight.

"A yawp?" Todd managed to squeak.

"Not just a yawp. A barbaric yawp,"

"Yawp," Todd said, so softly that Neil, Cameron, and I had to strain to hear it.

"Come on, louder,"

"Yawp." Not much improvement.

"No, that's a mouse. Come on. Louder."

"Yawp!" A bit better, but not quite.

"Oh good God, boy! Yell like a man!" Mr. Keating roared.

"YAWP!" Todd shouted.

"There it is. You have a barbarian in you after all," Mr. Keating said as Todd moved to return to his seat. "Now you don't get away that easy," he added, stopping Todd from returning to the chair.

He then asked Todd to describe the picture of Walt Whitman on top of our blackboard. Todd stammered out, "A m-madman,"

"What kind of madman? Don't think about it, just answer again," Mr. Keating said, circling a hapless Todd.

"A crazy madman,"

"No you can do better than that. Use your imagination. Say the first thing that pops in your head, even if it's total gibberish,"

"A sweaty-toothed madman," Todd blurted out.

"Whoa, where did he get that?" Knox muttered from behind.

"Good God boy, there's a poet in you after all," There, now close your eyes and tell me what you see," Mr. Keating said, putting his hand over Todd's eyes.

We all listened in rapt attention as slowly, Mr. Keating pulled these verses out from Todd. "I close my eyes…and this image floats beside me…a sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain…his hands reach out and choke me…and all the time he's mumbling…mumbling 'Truth. Truth is like…like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold."

I will admit that even I burst out laughing at this. But Mr. Keating was adamant with regards as to getting Todd to continue to speak. "Forget them. Forget them. Stay with the blanket. Tell me about the blanket," he insisted.

"Y-Y-Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us," Todd continued, more confidently now. Slowly, Mr. Keating left the front of the room and sat in front of our desks.

"From the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face as you wail, and cry, and scream," Todd finally finished. He opened his eyes to a silent class. Mr. Keating was smiling. All of we Dead Poets, especially Neil, were stunned. Slowly, applause and cheers sounded in the room.

"Don't you forget this," Mr. Keating said to Todd. After this, the bell rang, making this a very fitting ending to the day's class.

"That was magnificent!" I said to Todd as we hurried to soccer practice. He blushed and I laughed, ruffling his hair. Suddenly, Neil biked up alongside us.

"What you wrote, Todd, was pure genius," he said as he put on the brakes.

"Thank you," Todd said, more confidently than we'd ever heard him say anything in his entire stay in Welton.

"You know, you two could come along to practice. I mean, we need people to help with things, and it could be fun," Neil suggested.

"No thanks…maybe not today. Team B is down a few players and they need everyone they can get," I said. Todd simply shook his head.

Neil's smile fell ever so slightly. "Perhaps some other time," he said.

"So Neil, we both live to read our work another day?" I joked to cheer him up. Among all the Dead Poets, only Meeks, Neil, and I had yet to read our poems.

"Yes. I'll see you both after play practice. Have fun, you two," Neil said before pedaling off. I let Todd go on ahead to the soccer field, as I stood on the path, watching the breeze toss clouds across the sky. Somehow, though I loved soccer especially when I played with friends, I wished that I was biking alongside Neil. I could just see the two of us laughing and talking about many things. I wouldn't mind sitting through his entire play practice if it would make him happy.

"Hey there doll, are you coming?" Charlie asked, walking up to me. "The game is starting,"

"Yeah. I just needed to do a bit of thinking," I said shakily. I knew that it was hard for meto look at Neil, and it wasn't because I envied him. Not anymore.


	9. Someone's Got to Believe

_A/N: I finally updated! Usual disclaimers apply…I only own the O'Donnell siblings_

**Someone's Got to Believe**

That evening, after Neil returned from play practice, Meeks was waiting by the stairs, looking anxious. Now if even Meeks was getting worked up, there had to be reason to worry.

"Erm…Neil, Vanessa? Can I ask for a bit of help with Trig?" he said uneasily, holding up our nefarious Trig book.

"Sure," Neil said before I could even open my mouth. The three of us hurried to the common room to study. None of the other Dead Poets were there.

As I sat down, Spaz blew his nose into my book. "Cut it out! Have you seen Anderson and the others?" I yelled.

"Dunno" Spaz said from behind his handkerchief. I turned to see Neil trying to explain Trig to Meeks.

"Do you think this will matter in like, five years?" I chimed in. The boys looked up from their books. "Yeah, maybe to you, Meeks. But for me, Trig is just parent-sponsored torture,"

Neil laughed. "You're a riot, Vanessa," he kidded.

"Ha. At least I'm not dying over my English assignment," I retorted.

"I only asked for help. I just wanted to change a stanza here and there," Neil explained.

"Neil, you don't have to write something as long as the Illiad," Meeks said.

"Who said I was?" Neil chuckled before Todd came in, holding a whole load of books.

"Phone for you, Vanessa. Your mom," he said weakly as he sat down at the table.

"Darn," I muttered under my breath. If there was one thing I didn't look forward to every week besides Trig, it was my mother's weekly interrogation. "Save a seat for me eh?" I said before trudging out of the room.

"Oh come on, doll, don't exaggerate," Charlie said the next day as we walked to English class.

"Yeah, like you had to listen to your mother for _two hours_ just going on and on about how you were not taking Latin seriously. Of all subjects, Latin!" I said, placing my hands on my hips irately.

"Hey Neil, remember what made your parents put you in summer school?" Knox asked seemingly out of the blue.

Neil nodded. "Bad Science grades. My father told me that if I couldn't be expected to get an A in Biology, how much more with Chemistry?" he said.

"An 'A' in Science? Gosh, Neil, I'd kill for that," I said as we entered the classroom. The Captain was already there, waiting. After a short discussion on Tennyson, it was time for the next round of poetry readings.

"Miss O'Donnell," Mr. Keating said after Spaz had gone through a limerick punctuated with sniffles and much nose-blowing.

I sighed and cleared my throat. I was clearly in no mood to read, not after last night. Still, it wasn't like I could cry for mercy in front of the class, and I did have a poem to recite, even if it was unfinished.

"_If a robin redbreast in a cage_

_Is said to put heaven in a rage,_

_Then why did the sun smile_

_When for the longest while_

_We've screamed, raged, and cried_

_For sweet freedom that was denied?"_

"Sorry Captain, it's not finished," I said as I folded the paper at the end.

"I would like to hear the rest of it soon," Mr. Keating replied, smiling at me. I heaved a sigh of relief as I sat down in my chair. If the beginning was good enough for him, I felt encouraged to continue my writing.

Mr. Keating looked through what appeared to be his class list. "Last, but definitely not the least…Mr. Perry," he said. Neil went up rather calmly to the platform. As he took a look at the paper he held, his brow furrowed, as if he was bewildered.

"Captain, I've got the wrong poem," he said to Mr. Keating.

"Never mind, Mr. Perry. If it's a poem, it's a poem,"

Neil's dazed and horrified expression reminded me somewhat of Todd's when he was up there the day before. I could see him turning red slightly as he looked at his work again.

_"Bluer than sapphire or the roaring sea_

_Are my lady's eyes when she meets me…" _

I just knew that Neil was trying his best not to meet my gaze. He was looking in all directions except where I sat.

_"About her, what is most fair_

_Is that she lives without a care_

_Of cruel daylight's edicts_

_And whispers' unfeeling verdicts…" _

Some of the boys were starting to stir and whisper among themselves, snatching glances at me. I could feel my cheeks reddening all the while.

_"The smallest moment is eternity_

_In your smile, dear friend and lady,"_ Neil finally finished. As he walked slowly back to his seat, I dared myself to look him in his eyes, hoping to find out what he really meant.

Mr. Keating gave me and Neil a knowing look. "Poetry as you know, whether it is short, long, about nature…" he said, looking at Hopkins. "…or even love, it is an encapsulation of what makes life worth living," he began. Suddenly, the bell rang, and I sat up in my seat, eager for once to get away.

"That will be all for today, gentlemen, Miss O'Donnell," Mr. Keating finished. Cameron was the first to file out, and the rest of us followed.

"Seems as if you're mighty flattered, Miss O'Donnell," Pitts kidded me.

"Don't mention it, please," I groaned, glancing from him to Neil, who was walking ahead. In my confusion, I didn't notice another familiar face in a crowd of freshmen in the hallway.

"Vanessa!" my brother's high-pitched voice rang out. I turned around to see my brother John, with his blonde hair tousled and his uniform a bit dirty.

"You'd better clean up before going to class," I said to him, eyeing his uniform. I tapped my friends on the shoulder. "Hey guys, meet the reason why I'm here in Hell-ton," I called to them.

"Who he?" Charlie asked.

"My brother, John," I said.

"You two don't look alike," Knox commented.

"He takes after my father. I'm my mother's carbon-copy," I said. I noticed that John was staring at Neil.

"You're Neil Perry, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. You're John O'Donnell, I presume?" Neil said.

John nodded. "Are you going out with my sister?" he asked. I gave him a horrified look.

"Where did you get that idea?" I asked. Before John could reply though, someone called for all the students to get to class. I was starting to hate all the rushing we had to do in Welton.

The next day, our English class made a mad rush to get changed for another soccer game against another class (some juniors). When we jogged onto the field, I was surprised to see Mr. Keating also all ready for the game.

"I'm the referee," he grinned when I asked him. "Are you joining in, Miss O'Donnell?"

"Certainly, sir," I replied. "I used to play soccer with my brother back at home,"

At first, Charlie managed a goal, but it wasn't long before the leader of the other team tied the score.

At one point, I was running across the field when Todd kicked the ball to me. "Go get it in, Vanessa!' Knox called. Some of the biggest guys were between me and the goal. Time for some daring.

It was now or never. I gave the ball the best kick I could to make it soar over their heads and land in the goal, just below the crossbar.

"Woohoo!" I heard Todd cheer from beside me.

"That's my girl," Neil said, clapping me on the back.

I turned to face him and I laughed. "A girl's got to do what a guy cannot do,"

My goal tied the game. Suddenly, someone managed another goal. Our entire class erupted cheering around Mr. Keating.

"We won! We won!" I shrieked. We picked up Mr. Keating and carried him off from the soccer field as the sun shone golden in the trees. Neil was laughing, even Todd was grinning. The sweet smell of victory was in the air, mixing with that of freedom, and nothing ever smelled or felt better.

The next afternoon was free, being a Saturday. We had decided to hold a meeting later in the afternoon. That morning, I saw Knox before breakfast.

"Doing anything today besides the meeting?" he asked me.

"I'm going into town with Neil for a bit. Want to come? You could see Chris," I said. I had wanted to get a rise out of him, and mentioning Chris was a surefire way to do so.

"Vanessa, if I try to see her, she'll hate me. You don't know what Chet can do," he said, his once happy expression crumpling.

"Lesson One about Love, Mr. Overstreet, is being daring. If you love her, why don't you show it? Show her that she does mean something to you!" I exploded. I was so sick of him pining over Chris and being unwilling to do something about it. Sometimes his sighing could get irritating.

"Maybe someday," he muttered.

I sighed. "That's what they all say, Knox. That's what they all say in the best tragedies," I said. "If I were you, I'd try to see her. Call her maybe. Or even write. If I knew somebody felt that way about me, I'd like to see some sign of it,"

"Haven't you already?" Knox asked.

"Yeah, maybe," I said before heading out the door to join Neil.

"What was that about?" Neil asked me once we were biking away from the dorms and out the gate.

"Oh I was just getting a rise out of Knoxious," I replied. "What are you going to do anyway?"

"Post a letter, find a newspaper, and a pack of biscuits," Neil replied.

"Whatever for?" I asked.

"The letter is about another audition. The newspaper is for class. The biscuits are additional nutrition," Neil said. Something about that made me laugh.

We got everything we needed in the pharmacy. Across it though was a second-hand shop. In the window was a rough lamp in the shape of a man.

"Would you look at that," I said as I crossed the street and looked through the glass.

Neil peered at the piece quizzically. "It looks like it's trying to tell a story," he said.

"Maybe I could write about it," I joked wistfully. Though the lamp looked a bit worn and unfinished, it seemed as if there were words carved into it.

"Why not?" Neil said, entering the store. Before I could protest, he'd bought the lamp. The storekeeper seemed to be too happy to give it away.

"Where are you going to put it?" I asked Neil as he put the lamp in his bag.

"You'll see. Race you back to Welton!" he called, getting on his bike and pedaling off. I hopped on my bike and went after him, yawping at the top of my voice.

When I arrived at Welton, I thought I'd overtaken him. As I locked up my bike though, I saw him emerge from the dorm, still holding the lamp.

"That took long," he said teasingly. I stuck out my tongue at him.

"I'm not as long-legged as you are, Neil," I retorted. "So it's off to the Dead Poets' cavern?"

He nodded as we began walking into the woods. "I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately," Neil whispered after a while.

"I prefer soaring under the daylight. You sure we can find the cave even in the daylight?" I said, pushing some hair out of his face.

"I'm sure of it," Neil replied. He cautiously reached for my hand, and I let my fingers entwine with his as we ran through the woods.

It was the smell of tobacco that allowed us to find the cave so easily. The woods did look different in the afternoon, and in the blinding harshness of day, it was easy to get lost at times.

"Neil! Vanessa!' Meeks called to us when we ducked into the cavern.

"Friend, scholar, Welton men," Neil greeted as we took our usual spots.

"What is that?" Meeks asked, gesturing to the lamp.

"Duh, it's a lamp, Meeks," Pitts said.

"No, it's the god of the cave," Neil replied, removing the lampshade and installing the base on a rock shelf. Our laughter was interrupted by a rude blast from Charlie's saxophone.

"What do you say we start this meeting?" Charlie asked. He stood up, still holding the confounded instrument.

"Gentlemen, lady, "Poetruistic" by Charles Dalton," he announced. He proceeded to play what sounded like a jumble of notes. I winced as I tried not to cover my ears.

"Laughing crying tumbling mumbling. Gotta do more, gotta be more." he said.

"What is it with him and being 'more'?" I whispered to Todd. Todd merely smiled as we waited for the recital to finish. Charlie played more erratic notes, this time directing the full blast of them to Pitts' pipe.

"Chaos screaming, chaos dreaming. Gotta do more, gotta be more!" Charlie said more urgently. He then began playing a soothing, soulful tune on the saxophone, something that was definitely music.

When he was done, we all applauded. "Where did you learn to play that?" Pitts asked him.

"My parents made me take the clarinet for years," Charlie said.

"Yechh," I snickered, shooting him a grimace.

"Come on, I loved the clarinet," Cameron said.

"I hated it. The saxophone…the saxophone is more sonorous," Charlie grinned.

"Vocabulary," Meeks muttered. "I tried the flute when I was a kid,"

"My brother wanted me to join him for violin lessons," Todd said.

"I talked to John yesterday. He said you play the piano?" Neil asked me.

"I didn't like it. I prefer the guitar," I said.

"You? With a guitar?" Charlie sputtered.

"We can start a band," I joked.

"Yeah, and who is the vocalist? Todd?" Cameron piped up.

Just then, Knox slammed down his hand. "I can't take it anymore. If I don't have Chris, I'm gonna kill myself," he said, obviously desperate.

My eyes widened. "Knoxious, you've got to calm down," Charlie said.

"No Charlie, that's just my problem. I've been calm all my life," Knox replied. A wide, eager smile was starting to spread across his face. "I'm going to do something about it," he said, starting to climb out of the cave.

"Where are you going?" Neil asked him.

"I'm gonna call her," Knox laughed. We quickly scrambled for our coats and ran after him, barely keeping up as he crashed through the woods.

The nearest payphone was in the dorms. We gathered near it as Knox slowly picked up the receiver and began dialing a number. When someone answered it, he quickly slammed it down.

"She's gonna hate me. The Danburrys will hate me. My parents will kill me," Knox said, panic in his voice. He tried to steel himself. "All right, goddamn it. You're right," he added, looking from me to the rest. "Carpe Diem, even if it kills me,"

We watched with bated breath as he dialed. "Hello, Chris?" he asked.

"Hello, this is Knox Overstreet," he said after a while. He covered the mouthpiece. "She's glad I called," he mouthed, looking at us.

"Would I like to come to a party?" he asked louder, returning to the phone.

"Yes of course!" I whispered.

"Say yes, say yes," Charlie added to egg him on.

"Well sure. Okay, I'll be there, Chris. Friday night at the Danburrys. Okay, thank you. I'll see you. Bye," Knox said. He put down the phone and yelled.

"Can you believe it? She was gonna call me. She invited me to a party with her," he said once he'd caught his breath.

"At Chet Danburry's house?" Charlie asked before I elbowed him.

"Yeah," Knox replied, dazed.

"Well?"

"So?"

"So you don't really mean she means you're going with her?"

Knox rolled his eyes. "Well of course not Charlie, but that's not the point. That's not the point at all," he said. "The point is that she was thinking about me. I've only met her once, and already she's thinking about me,"

He stood up straight and smiled as he passed through our group. "It's going to happen guys, I can feel it! She is going to be mine," he said as he flipped his scarf with all his savoir faire and went up the stairs.

"Carpe! Carpe!" we all called after him, laughing all the while.


	10. Of Birthdays and Realizations

_A/N: Still here! I just have been slightly bogged with school lately, but here it is at last. _

**Birthdays and Realizations**

The day after Knox called Chris was my 17th birthday. That day went almost like any other day at Hell-ton. Hager gave us three pages of trig problems that must've been created by some sadistic mathematician, and I couldn't make sense of anything in Chemistry.

Things began looking up just before English class. I was the first to arrive, as all the boys had gotten caught up in the library, the dining room, or outside. When I arrived in the classroom, Mr. Keating was there.

"Good afternoon, Captain," I greeted as I set my books down on my desk.

"Good day to you, Miss O'Donnell, and a happy birthday to you," he said most amiably as he went to the window.

"Thank you. How did you know?" I asked.

He smiled. "The very stones prate of it," he said as he went away from the window. "It looks like a day too that shouldn't be spent in the classroom,"

I raised my eyebrow, wondering what he meant. "Miss O'Donnell, please find the boys and tell them that we'll be having our class today in the courtyard," the Captain said as he straightened up his desk.

"Aye," I replied, sifting through my desk and grabbing a book, a copy of Whitman's "Leaves of Grass". I went out and crashed right into Neil.

"Whoa there, Van! What's going on?" he asked.

I gestured inside. "Captain says we're having class in the courtyard. Pass it on," I said, managing to smile at him, though he seemed to have forgotten it was my birthday.

"I'll see to it, my lady," he grinned as he went the other way from where I was going. I rolled my eyes. For the past hours, he'd been calling me that.

Half an hour later, we were gathered in the courtyard. Mr. Keating had told Cameron, Pitts, and Knox to take a stroll around the courtyard that was mostly stone, but had a few trees and plants on the sides. I didn't care for the place very much.

For some strange reason, we began clapping our hands to time out some sort of beat with their walking. "There it is," Mr. Keating said. "I don't know but I've been told…"

"I don't know but I've been told," we all repeated.

"Doing poetry is old,"

"Doing poetry is old,"

He now began to walk alongside them, till he told them to stop. "Thank you. If you notice, everyone started walking at their own pace," he began. We chuckled when he began to describe how Cameron, Pitts, and Knox had walked earlier.

"I brought them up here to illustrate the point of conformity: the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others. Now, those of you -- I see the look in your eyes like, "I would've walked differently." Well, ask yourselves why you were clapping" he continued, looking at those of us who stood in line at the edge of the courtyard. I looked at my own hands in front of me, and Todd's as well, and I noticed too that Neil and Charlie had not exactly been clapping.

"Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference," Now, I want you to find your own walk right now. Your own way of striding, pacing. Any direction. Any way you want," Mr. Keating continued. "Gentlemen, lady, the courtyard is yours,"

Some of us began jumping around. Some strutted. Todd began striding, small steps at first, then broad and confident. Neil covered the courtyard in long, giant steps. I had begun to skip and dance, letting my arms swing. Not surprisingly, Charlie didn't budge.

"You don't need to perform. Just make it for yourself. Mr. Dalton? You'll be joining us?" Mr. Keating called.

"I'm exercising my right not to walk," Charlie replied.

"Thank you, Mr. Dalton. You just illustrated the point. Swim against the stream," Mr. Keating said as I caught up with Neil and managed to almost jokingly fall in step with him and Todd. As Neil discreetly took my hand, I felt a little uneasy. I knew we were being watched.

That evening, I was studying in my room under the covers, with a flashlight. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. I threw on my robe and opened the door to find the Dead Poets all there.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

Neil emerged with a gift-wrapped package that was only a little longer than my hand. "We just thought we'd give you this. From all of us. Happy birthday, Vanessa!" he said cheerily.

I noticed that the box had been rather crudely wrapped (later, Knox would confess that they'd tried wrapping it in the dark). "Guys, we can't stay long. We'll get in trouble," Cameron protested.

"Oh go to bed if you want to, you baby," Charlie mocked.

"Are you going to open it?" Todd asked.

I quickly ripped the paper off and underneath was a fine blue pen, with my name engraved on it in silver. "You really shouldn't have," I whispered, wondering how much they'd had to pool for it.

"It's not everyday we get to er…treat a girl nicely," Knox said. I smirked at him.

"Thanks," I smiled. The hallway clock struck, and we nearly jumped.

"It's time to go, gents," Neil said, "And you know, it's not even quite ten o'clock,"

I laughed as I grabbed the "Leaves of Grass" off my desk and put the pen in its place. I wouldn't lose it for the world. "Are we going to the cave again?" I asked, putting the pen on my table.

"Is there a better way to spend your birthday?" he asked. I shook my head as I grabbed my coat and pulled on shoes.

"Lead the way," I grinned as we dashed off down the halls. We ran haphazardly to the woods, tracing familiar paths, jumping, laughing, and dashing every which way we could think of.

I had been so blind as not to notice how Neil treated me over the next few days. He would sometimes fall back to wait for me to catch up, and he always, always sat beside me at table. On Thursday, I noticed him apparently watching me after class.

"Did you want anything?" I asked.

He smiled cheekily. "I wanted to ask you if you could accompany me to play practice," he said.

I frowned. "Neil, I've got homework, and really, what will I do there?"

"I just need the moral support," he said.

"Can't you ask Todd or someone else?"

"You're the only other person at school who understands what I feel about…acting, about many things,"

"It would take a lifetime to fully understand you, really. You're so foolhardy that it's scary. I think you take too many risks,"

"So do you,"

By this time, we were standing close, as if there was something neither of us could get across to the other. Unexpectedly, he leaned in and kissed me, just for a second, but it felt like eternity as he drew back.

If it had been any other boy, I probably would've slapped him. This time, though, I could only watch as he pedaled away.

That evening, I was walking when suddenly, a slab of something landed at my feet. Pens, paper and ink were everywhere, even on my uniform.

I looked up and saw two familiar figures laughing at the walkway. "Did you expect this desk set to grow wings, Todd Anderson?" I yelled up at them as I marched up to the walkway. Neil and Todd could only look at me, eyes wide as if feigning innocence.

"So much for the world's first unmanned flying desk set," Todd said to Neil.

"You rascals," I snickered, gesturing to my ink-stained blouse.

"It's Todd's birthday today," Neil said.

"Happy birthday, Todd," I said. "Was that desk set yours?"

"I have one just like that in my room," Todd replied.

I'd forgotten about that. I fished into my bag and found a pack of cookies I'd intended to hoard, but I decided to give it to Todd. "Sorry I couldn't wrap it," I said.

"Thanks," Todd said, smiling. "Want to share?"

"Anything's better than Hellton hash," Neil said. We three sat on the walkway as Todd tore the pack open and gave us a cookie each: oatmeal and chocolate chip.

"To birthdays and romantics," I said before taking a bite.


End file.
